


Don't Forget Me

by thewalkingassbutt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-12 00:04:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/804808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewalkingassbutt/pseuds/thewalkingassbutt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the death of Sam, having already suffered an indescribable amount of loss and trauma in his life already, Dean Winchester only has Castiel left to help fix the pieces, however dealing with PTSD and depression isn’t as easy as putting together pieces of a puzzle. Having already been together for years, Castiel is willing to stick by Dean for the rest of his life, for his love for Dean outweighs any problems they may have together. After a sudden severe accident which leaves Dean with extreme memory loss, Castiel has to work even harder than before in order to help Dean remember himself, his undying love for Cas, but most importantly his past that could arguably be best left forgotten. It won’t be an easy road but Cas is prepared to stick by him and bring his Dean back. In the end however, Cas could learn a little too late the problem may not lie within Dean after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Forget Me

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
 **Chapter 1**  


“Dean…” said a distant voice echoing against the howl of the night’s cool breeze. The street was empty, not a soul was to been seen or heard.

“Dean, I - ” the voice said again, except this time it was cut off by a harsh coughing and spluttering sound.

Dean was suddenly standing in the middle of a deserted road beneath a humming, flickering street light. He looked around and saw nothing but bits of newspaper rustling along the sidewalk and against his thick heavy boots. The breeze seemed to raise the hairs on his arms and he instinctively pulled his worn out jacket tighter against his body. He glanced up towards the buildings around him hoping he would recognise one of them, hoping that it would tell him where the hell he was.

The more Dean focused on the features of the buildings, the more they seemed to change. He felt as if he were being pulled underwater, with everything looking distorted and wavy with no real definition to anything.

From the distance the sound of a wooden gate opening and slamming shut began to fill Dean’s hearing, bringing him out from underwater and sharpening his senses again. He turned to his left and looked down the dark empty street and decided to follow the noise.

“Sammy?” Dean called out as he looked around him, capturing every bit of detail he could that would help him figure out where he was, but in all honestly there wasn’t much to see.

Everything began to look colourless and dull with a hazy smoke that appeared to linger over everything, as if it were about to fade away.  
As he kept walking, the sound of his boots hitting the ground with each step began to get louder and louder until he couldn’t distinguish it from the sudden ferocity of his heart slamming against his chest. The noise of the wind whistled past his ears and through his hair, threatening to freeze him on the spot while the gate being slammed shut over and over seemed to pick up it’s pace and the sound began to ride above everything else until it was almost overbearing.

Dean stopped dead in his tracks and everything around him went silent apart from the small humming noise of a vibrating phone. Without knowing why, Dean knew exactly where to go to retrieve it. He turned down an alleyway to his left and behind a large trashcan was a glowing blue light from a cell phone still vibrating against the ground.

Dean, after approaching it slowly and with caution, bent down and picked it up bringing it to his face. The brightness highlighted his confused expression as he read the words ‘(1) missed call – Sammy”. The realisation hit him like a ton of bricks and his hand clenched around the phone until his palm and knuckles hurt and his face twisted in agony.

“Why didn’t you answer Dean?” someone suddenly said from behind him. Dean whipped around to the familiar voice that sounded as clear as a bell and dropped his phone. It made a loud crack as it hit the floor and yet the screen still showed the missed call.

The tall figure stood just a few meters away from Dean, concealed in the darkness. The streetlight barely highlighted his features as he stood limp and lifeless at the end of the alleyway, almost as if someone was holding him up rather than standing by himself.

Dean opened his mouth to call out to him, but his voice was no louder than the soft breeze around him. His heart began to beat loudly as the figure started walking towards him until it finally stopped just before it got to the phone lying on the floor.

All of a sudden Dean could see the pale face of his brother, tears of blood coming from his eyes that held a vengeful stare as they bore into his own.

“You left me to die, Dean. I called you when I was lying right where you’re stood. You didn’t answer me Dean,” the figure of Sam tilted it’s head to the side, “Why?”

Dean’s throat became dry and he was unable to swallow but still tried to open his mouth and speak, to tell his brother that it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t answer the phone. His mind knew that this wasn’t true and forbid him in the attempt to speak, knowing that Dean did in fact blame himself. It was he that missed Sam’s call when he was dying in the street after being mugged and beaten exactly one year ago, it was he that didn’t call back when he saw the missed call because it was 3am and he was tired, and it was he that groaned the next morning when he had to get out of bed at 9am to a persistent ringing that turned out to be the police department.

“It’s your fault I died,” Sam said, his face even and unchanging, “It’s your fault I died Dean.”

Hot tears welled up in Dean’s eyes that threatened to spill over as his brother’s lifeless, bleeding body began repeating these words over and over, louder and louder until Dean had to cover his ears with his hands and try with everything in him to yell to cover the sound of his brother’s voice.

With his eyes squeezed shut, tears rolling down his cheeks, hands over his ears, he could feel the sharp grip on his arms as his brother shook him violently and screamed out his name in fury.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  


“Dean! Wake up, wake up!”

Dean gasped and shot up in bed. He was covered in sweat, heart racing and body shaking. With wide bewildered eyes, he breathlessly looked to his right to see the concerned face of Castiel sitting up in bed with one hand on Dean’s shoulder gripping it tight.

“I’m s-sorry,” Dean mumbled with what voice he had in him and Cas’s face softened, pulling him into his chest. They both laid back down, Dean’s head resting on Cas’s chest as he began to get his breath back.

“Same dream again?” Castiel asked him, running his hand repetitively up and down Dean’s neck and into his hair. Dean tightened his arm around Cas’s waist and nodded, focusing on the gentle beat of his heart to relax him.

Ever since the night Sam died, Dean had the same nightmare.

His little brother Sammy dreamed of being a lawyer his entire life, and just two short years ago he finally got his dream job and things were going really well for him. He was earning money, he had Jessica (his beautiful fiancé), he had a glamorous car, a new house, and even a dog that he accidently hit with that glamorous car of his.

The poor dog almost died, but after hurling into the nearby vets with it, they managed to save it and they suggested that Sam keep it considering it didn’t have a home. In all honesty Sam didn’t want the dog because Jessica was allergic to them, so for some strange reason he figured Dean might want it. Dean always said he hated dogs so he wasn’t expecting him to say yes, but what other choice did he have? That afternoon he went down to the workshop just outside of town where Dean worked. His passion was cars and he loved to fix them all day every day. It wasn’t the world’s greatest job and it didn’t pay very good either but he was happy and that was enough for Dean.

“He looks evil Sam, straight from hell kinda evil,” Dean said looking at the scruffy black dog, scrunching his face up in disgust.

Sam just rolled his eyes and gave a slight chuckle, “I thought you might…. want him.”

Rubbing his greased hands on a clean towel, Dean scoffed at Sam and threw the towel to his chest, “Are you kidding me? No. You ran him over, you keep him.”

“Oh come on, just help me out here.” Sam whined.

“Sam, no.”

“Jessica’s allergic, I can’t take him home!”

“I’m allergic!”

“Oh please, you’re not allergic, you’re just scared of them.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Sam I’m not taking him. Take him to the pound.”

Dean walked away not having the energy to argue and went inside the little shop at the back and pulled out a beer.

“No, I have a conscience,” Sam groaned following him.

“Screw your conscience, that’s what I say.”

Dean took a long drink of his beer, then pulled it from his mouth noticing that Sam was still staring at him and raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

Sam stayed silent, giving off his most annoyed face.

“Sammy,” Dean smirked and walked past him again going back outside to carry on fixing a car, “your bitch-face won’t work on me you know.”

He could hear the long drawn out sigh from Sam behind him.

“Fine, I’ll just keep him,” Sam groaned, “at least gimme a name.”

“Crowley,” Dean replied without hesitation.

Sam raised an eyebrow and Dean turned around to face him giving a small shrug.

“Seemed fitting. Sounds like an evil name for that… hellhound.”

“You’re such a wimp, Dean. Fine I’ll call him Crowley...” Sam said as more of a question than an answer.

Sam gave a quick goodbye letting Dean get back to work, but not before Crowley stopped in front of Dean giving a short growl before following Sam.

Dean’s eyes widened then screwed together in annoyance, “Yeah I don’t like you either buddy.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  


The feel of small kisses on the top of his head interrupted Dean’s thoughts. He opened his eyes not realizing he’d shut them. He looked up towards Cas who hadn’t stopped kissing him.

Cas planted them on Dean’s forehead, down his nose and to his lips to where they stayed a few seconds longer before returning his lips to the top of Dean’s head.

“I’m sorry,” Cas mumbled against Dean’s hair.

“For what?”

“Not being able to help.”

Dean sighed, “Cas, it’s not something you can fix.”

“I can try.”

Dean could almost hear the smile in his voice as he said it and couldn’t help but smile too.

“I love you,” Dean mumbled as he lifted Cas’s shirt, reaching his hand up his chest and resting it there so he could feel the beat of his heart. Cas smiled because he knew, for some reason, this would help him go back to sleep.

“I love you too,” he replied, still running his hand through Dean’s hair. It wasn’t long before they both drifted back into a peaceful sleep, their bodies moulded together as if they were designed to fit.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  


The sound of cooking food is what awoke Cas from his peaceful sleep and he slowly sat up and stretched, taking in the mouth-watering smell of bacon.

Cas crawled from his side of the bed to Dean’s, which was the side closest to the door and rubbed his eyes, only for his attention to be caught by Dean’s glasses still lying on the floor from yesterday evening when he threw them off in frustration.

Dean has always needed to wear glasses but he constantly said they made him look “nerdy”. Cas always laughed and told him that they made him look handsome, although it just earned him a scoff and a look of detest, however Cas somehow always managed to get him to wear them more often than not.

Before heading downstairs Cas looked back over their messy bed and saw Dean’s old black t-shirt at the end almost hanging off. Dean would always wear that shirt to bed when he got the chance, but would always change into something else in the morning.

In all honesty, it began as a normal thing a few years ago when they first got their house together and Dean had to work early one morning and he got changed into his work clothes, leaving his black t shirt at the end of the bed while Cas slept. When Cas woke up not having a shirt on, he decided to wear Dean’s instead of looking through their barely unpacked boxes of stuff they needed to put away (even though they’d been in their new house for a few days now). Now Cas wasn’t sure if Dean still preferred to change into new clothes when he woke up, or if he knew that Cas loved to wear his shirt in the morning, leaving it there on purpose.

After slipping on Dean’s over sized shirt, Cas grabbed his glasses and headed downstairs only to see Dean dancing awkwardly and singing way off key to “Eye Of The Tiger” that was playing from the radio on the window ledge as he cooked.

Cas chuckled to himself and stayed leaning against the door frame just watching him as he jiggled his butt around, making movements with his arm as he tried to flip the bacon over at the same time and the eating some as he was going.

“Save some for me would ya?” Cas finally said with a smirk, startling Dean who whipped his head around, his face flushing a light pink in his cheeks.

Although Cas could see how embarrassed Dean was, he couldn’t help but wish he had stayed watching longer, just to preserve that moment. With Dean suffering from PTSD and depression, it wasn’t very often that he would let go and be happy as freely as he liked.

Cas liked to assume he was getting better, even if it was slowly, but with his help, and Dean would always have Cas’s help, then one day he… they… would be able to live without any worries.

Cas could never complain though, Dean wasn’t a fixed man when they first met. Dean lost both of his parents in a house fire when he was a child and then had the responsibility of looking after his younger brother. They both had their grandparents growing up but they were very strict with them, and although Dean would never admit it, Cas knew from certain things Dean had said that they (at various points of he and Sam’s lives) were physically and emotionally abused by them.

Dean always told Cas that he was happy though, mainly down to his uncle Bobby who took on both Sam and Dean when they got into their teenage years. Dean related quite significantly to Bobby and they grew up extremely close, which meant that when Bobby was shot and killed in a horrific convenience store shoot out, well, it sent Dean into an extremely depressed state. Dean from then on only had his younger brother Sammy to mend the pieces back together and look after him the way he had done for Sam growing up.

It took a while, and Dean immersed himself in fixing cars, drinking beer, having a cigarette that turned into two, then three, then packs at a time, not to mention breaking lamps now and then and maybe a few other household items or bare walls.

After a good long while, he and Sam were having conversations again, going out for dinner and leaning on each other as equals. Eventually Dean began working less hours than before and got a job the local high school in late February to fix a few things here and there. That’s where he met Cas.

It was a Monday afternoon, Castiel’s last class had gone home and he was left to tidy up the place. Dean was just outside fixing a broken window a student had done after getting pissed at his teacher earlier in the day after she gave him an F on his last report.

When Dean was told what happened he just smirked to himself and bit his tongue to prevent from saying that he “should’ve just slept with her.” Considering he was speaking to the head of the English department, he was wise enough to keep his mouth shut.

After a good 20 minutes into the job, Dean heard a loud crash followed by a lot of cursing from the room to his left. Holding back laughter and the urge to go inside and see what happened, he ignored it and carried on working.

After another loud crash moments after, Dean couldn’t help himself and opened the door and peered through. He watched the man with neat black hair wearing a smooth white t shirt that hugged his chest in all the right ways, with a bright striped tie, ¾ length black jacket with the sleeves pushed up his arms and extremely well fit black jeans, struggle as he attempted to pick up his laptop and cable off the floor, along with a pile of books that seemed to have fallen with it.

Dean carried on watching him, weirdly fascinated by him and didn’t know why. He caught himself smiling at the frustrated and flustered expression on the man’s face as he tried picking everything up at once but failing.

“What the hell,” he muttered to himself. Dean always knew that maybe he wasn’t entirely straight, but he would never admit that he was gay. No one would have a problem with that except himself. He’d had a lot of girlfriends and one-night stands in the past but none of them ever meant anything to him, as if he was always striving for something but has never been able to find it.

“This is just the worst fucking day,” Castiel murmured to himself.

Dean heard. He finally decided to walk in and help the poor guy.

“Need a hand?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement, his eyes scanning across the mess on the floor.

“Yeah, sure. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Cas said, not being sure whether he was saying it to this stranger or to himself.

“Dude, you’re a teacher. I’d be pretty stressed out if I had to stay behind after hours.”

Castiel gave a lighthearted laugh and began picking up several books while Dean put his laptop back on his desk.

After going back and helping Cas put the final books back in place, Dean stuck his hand out, “I’m Dean by the way. Dean Winchester.”

“Castiel Novak, hey I appreciate your help.”

“Sure thing,” Dean smiled, and within the same second he realized this was the first genuine smile he had made in months without having to think about it.

Suddenly he started to get nervous, which was really unusual for him. He oozed self confidence when he needed to despite how he felt about himself inside, except right now this man he hadn’t known for more than 10 damn minutes was making Dean Winchester nervous.

Dean didn’t know it at the time, but Cas was already showing an interest in him. Whether it be his charm, his big green eyes, the tiny freckles that he noticed on his face even under his glasses, or maybe it was the inner dorkiness he could sense from Dean. Like the way his glasses were slightly uneven across his face, looking a bit too big for him which meant he was pushing them up or readjusting them every few seconds.

Castiel has always known that he preferred men, in fact, he’s never even considered being with a woman. He wished all the time he could tell people but his entire family have always been extremely religious and happen to be very much against homosexuality, especially his two brothers Michael and Gabriel.

Cas was absolutely certain that his entire family would outcast him if he ever revealed that he was gay, therefore he’s never spoken of it. He’d make excuses that he would “court” the right woman when she came along if ever his family were concerned about the lack of love in his life. After all, he was 26 and very much single. He’d always reassure people that he wants to treasure whoever he loves and not waste his feelings on someone undeserving, which usually made his family proud and then leave him alone for a while.

“I better get back to work,” Dean said, pushing his glasses further up his nose looking anywhere but Cas’s sensitive looking blue eyes.. He just wanted to get out of there, he hated feeling nervous around people. Cas smiled at him and nodded, shaking his hand once more, firmer this time and perhaps a few second longer than what would be deemed appropriate.

When their hands parted, Dean couldn’t help but feel a sense of emptiness and wished he could go back and relive that one little moment again, and again, and again because the small touch between their hands made him feel something that no amount of sex or kissing or touching another woman or any person for that matter has ever seemed to do before, and for the love of God Dean just couldn’t understand why and it fucking frustrated him. He hadn’t even known that this man existed more than 20 minutes ago.

As Dean walked away his heart raced up once again when Castiel stopped him.

“Dean?” he called out, and Dean felt a weird inside when he said it, as if his name were made for him to say.

Dean tried to act as normal as possible, turning back towards Cas who was placing a few files in his briefcase, looking as if he was getting ready to leave.

“Why are you here anyway? I haven't seen you around here before.”

“I’m a mechanic, well, most days. I was looking for some easy hours and someone from here got in contact with me about a broken window.”

“Huh,” Cas chuckled looking back at his briefcase thinking, and then looked back up at Dean, “Jeremy Eisen I assume. The guy who got an F and went insane about it.”

“That’s the one.”

“You know, he probably should’ve just slept with her.”

Dean saw the grin form on Cas’s lips and started laughing, I mean, real laughing, not that fake laughing he did so many times before over the past few months. Cas joined in his laughter and when they stopped, Dean just chuckled once more to himself, partly because he had said the same thing, but more in disbelief that not only has he smiled with a good reason for the first time in so long, but also laughed.

“You seem like an alright guy Dean. We should go out sometime.”

Dean raised his eyebrow as he watched Cas zip up his briefcase and just nodded his head in an approving manner.

“Can't see a reason why not. Sure.”

“It’s a date then,” Cas grinned, and Dean was taken back a moment and swallowed hard.

Cas stood at his desk for a few seconds and scribbled something down on a piece of paper then proceeded to walk up to Dean and hand it to him.

“My number,” he told him.

Dean smirked, “Wow. I didn’t even have to ask. I must be doing something right.”

He could feel his self-confidence coming back as Cas gave a smile, “I live on 5th Avenue, number 16. I mean, if you’re okay with that.”

“I don’t sleep with guys on the first day, sorry," he smirked.

“I meant to have a beer or two, and then go out. But, still... that's a shame,” Cas said more quietly than before and walked out of the classroom, the smile never fading from his lips.

This wasn’t like Castiel to act this way, not at all, but something about Dean gave him a confidence boost, and for the first time he decided to act on it. It wasn’t often that someone came along and attracted his attention the way Dean had.

Dean just stood there, the smirk wiped from his lips as there took in everything that just happened, feeling a warm, full feeling inside him. For the first time he was actually looking forward to something in his life.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  


“Dean, I love you, but you’re a terrible singer,” Cas grinned as he walked towards Dean, linking his arms around his waist and pulling him tight against his body.

“Oh bite me, Cas. You’re just jealous.”

Cas rolled his eyes as Dean leaned in to kiss him, but before their lips met, Cas promptly held up Dean’s glasses in front of his face.

“Are you kidding me?” he groaned.

“No. Wear them or no kiss,” Cas ordered.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

Cas grinned as Dean groaned again, putting the oversized, slightly wonky glasses over his eyes.

“Now kiss me.”

Cas smiled and leaned up on his toes, wrapping his arms around his neck, pressing his lips against Dean’s, running one of his hands through his hair, which earned a sound of approval from him. Dean lifted the back of Cas’s, well, his shirt, and trailed a finger up his spine, and back down again.

Cas loved this, he always loved it when Dean did that and gave a shudder of pleasure. Dean slowly licked the bottom of Cas’s lips, but Cas pulled away making Dean pout.

“Your food’s about to burn,” he said raising an eyebrow over Dean’s shoulder looking at the smoke.

“Shit.”

Dean quickly pulled away from Cas and frantically started moving the bacon and eggs around in their pans.

“Lemme finish it, go sit down,” Cas laughed, taking the spatula from him.

“Sure sure, I need a smoke.”

Cas frowned as Dean walked through to the living area to grab a cigarette from his pack.

“I thought you were gonna quit. You promised,” Cas shouted to Dean through the room.

“Yeah, I will,” he called back.

Cas sighed, knowing he didn’t mean it. He always felt bad trying to get him to quit because it would take a lot of will power and if it made him happy (sort of) then he wanted to let him do his own thing. Sure, he wanted the best for Dean and helping him stop smoking would be the right thing to do but as of right now he had a lot going on, so Cas decided not to say any more.

By the time Dean had finished and put out his cigarette by the open window, Cas was walking in with their breakfast and placed it on the table.

After several minutes of silence, Cas spoke up, “You sure you wanna see Sam’s grave today?”

“Of course, Cas,” he replied, shoveling a fork full of bacon in his mouth, “It was a year ago today. I can’t not go.”

“I know, it’s just… I’m worried about you. You haven’t been sleeping; you’ve been getting quiet again. I just want to make sure you’re okay, that's all.”

Dean smiled his concern and the way he knew Dean wasn’t fine without having to say anything. He grabbed Cas’s hand from across the table and gave it a firm squeeze.

“I’m fine Cas,” he reassured.

Cas nodded, and once they’d both finished their breakfast they got ready to leave.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  


“What time is it babe?” Dean called from the bathroom as he shaved.

“Ten thirty, why?”

“Damn,” he mumbled to himself, rubbing his jawline.

“Dean?”

Cas walked into the bathroom to see Dean frowning.

“I wanted to take a shower,” he pouted.

“You can, it takes you five minutes Dean,” Cas laughed pulling his trenchcoat over his black jacket and white t shirt with a tie, wanting to look presentable even if they weren’t planning on being there that long.

“I meant… with you,” Dean said playfully as he fingered the edges of Cas’s coat. Cas swallowed hard as his ears went pink, feeling very light.

“We, we can later,” he stammered out watching Dean tracing his finger over his chest. Even though they'd been together for over 5 years, Cas still couldn't shake the feeling he got whenever Dean touched him as if they were meeting again for the first time.

“I just want you to hold me. Stupid I know,” Dean said not looking at Cas, a sad look forming on his face.

Cas grabbed Dean’s hand and kissed his palm several times before planting one on his lips.

“I love you,” he hummed into Dean’s ear.

“You too.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  


Just after eleven they arrived at the cemetery where Sam’s gravestone was. Sam always said he wanted to be cremated with his ashes let go over the Grand Canyon.

Dean always sniggered at the idea saying it was corny, but now he realized it was the most beautiful idea in the world, and that’s what he did with Cas and Jessica by his side, finally saying goodbye to his little brother, finally be at peace in the place he loved most.

Dean cried and Cas held him as they looked over the beautiful landscape in front of them. Jessica got her share of hugs between them but left a lot sooner than Dean and Castiel.

Before they left the canyon, Cas vowed to take him back there again on the anniversary of Sam’s death, promising that by then he would have fixed Dean. Dean didn’t believe him but agreed anyway because he trusted him.

Although they weren’t able to travel there for Sam’s anniversary, the day still meant just as much to Dean and to Cas, and Dean was able to say that Cas had began fitting the puzzle pieces back together enough to be able to see the final picture, and that was enough for him. Dean wasn’t entirely fixed, but he had the man he loved doing everything in his efforts to help him get to that point.

“I miss you buddy,” Dean said sitting on the ground in front of Sam’s grave.

It was small, marbled, and had many flowers surrounding it already. Dean didn’t bring flowers, he instead bought a tiny toy soldier from when they were younger that got trapped in his Impala. Dean managed to get it out a month ago and felt it was right to give it back to its original owner.

“Remember when we got these stuck in the car?” he laughed, “Dad got so mad at us. I took the blame, I always did. Just the look on your face when you got yelled at… man, your puppy eyes could win over anybody.”

Cas smiled.

Tears kept rolling down Dean’s cheek, “I know… I know I wasn’t the best big brother. I know I’ve made some shitty mistakes. I tried though. I promise you Sammy, I tried,” his voice cracked and he pressed his hand to his forehead. Cas gently sat behind Dean, wrapping his arms around his front and laid his head on his back.

“You saved me Sammy. I’m just sorry I couldn’t save you.”

Dean finally lost it and began to sob. Cas stayed behind him and they sat like this for over and hour, almost two. Neither one said anything, they just sat and remembered Sam for the pure, big-hearted, gentle giant he was.

“It’s gonna be okay Dean,” Cas hushed, “I got you.”

Dean smiled behind his tears and leaned back against his chest and sighed, feeling safe and secure.

“I got you,” Cas hushed again.


End file.
